I think he’s trying to tell us four a.m. is past his bedtime.
“Need your beauty sleep, huh?”
He just stares at me with rippling biceps bigger than the Hulk’s.
“Why don’t you go work out the room accommodations,” Liv suggests. “I’ll keep my eye on this one.”
Now that is the best idea I have heard all night. Scram, big man, so Liv and I can have a few minutes alone. I can still satisfy even when forced to be super-fast.
Knuckles leaves the room, and we can hear his heavy footsteps knock all the way down the outside walkway.
“He’s pleasant.”
Liv smirks. A little dimple popping out on her left cheek. “He’s definitely not Mr. Congeniality, but he’s excellent at what he does.”
“Brood?”
“That, among other things.”
“Why do they call him Knuckles?” I ask.
“Because the last thing you hear before he punches your lights out is him cracking his knuckles,” Liv explains.
“How bad-action-movie cliché.”
“It might be.” Liv agrees. “But it is effective in real life.”
“Real life.” I ponder the thought. The situation we’re in. And how to make the best of it. “I know it’s not ideal. But I’m glad you’re here,” I confess, taking her hand and lacing our fingers together. “I try not to need anyone, but this time, right now, I really need you.” I lean in to kiss her, but Liv shuts me down. Actually, she smacks a stop sign right in my face.
“Damon, don’t.” Liv slinks away from me and slides off the bed. She puts a galaxy between us with just a few small steps.
“What’s wrong?” I follow after her, but she holds her hand up. International Sign Language for back off.
“I just think we should keep our distance. Draw a line. We had some fun. But it’s over now. It has to be.”
I clench my jaw from the bullseyes of pain. She’s rejecting me. I shut down, crushed by too many excruciating emotions all at once. It’s hard to handle.
“Fine,” I give in. “If that’s what you want.”
Liv is quiet. Her silence tells me one thing, but the hurtful look in her eyes tells me another. I know she cares about me. She just doesn’t want to admit it. She doesn’t want to wander down that path, and although I can’t blame her — look at where our super short relationship has gotten her — I still fucking want her.
I have given up so much for the mistakes my father made. Liv won’t be another sacrifice I have to make. She is where it ends. Where I draw the line.
A horrible, awkward silence descends upon us. We stare at each other uncomfortably until, ironically, Knuckles saves us.
His large frame swallows the room as he magically unlocks the adjoining door.
“See you in the morning, roomie.” Knuckles beams at me with a cunning smile, then disappears into the connected room.
“Roomie?” I peer at Liv, not at all amused.
“Well, there’s only one bed in this room. How would that work?”
“Um, I have a few ideas.” My reply is both snarky and serious.
Liv shakes her head. “Boundaries, Damon. Starting now.”
I scowl at Liv. Deliberately. So she sees exactly what I’m thinking, and then hears it. “Boundaries fucking suck.”
